


Odds Are (We're Gonna be Alright)

by purdledooturt



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, M/M, implied Cecil/Carlos, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purdledooturt/pseuds/purdledooturt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos thinks about his transition from scared newcomer to a somewhat seasoned surviving citizen of the strange desert town. Inspired by Barenaked Ladies song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odds Are (We're Gonna be Alright)

At first, he was afraid of everything.

As a scientist, he had reasons to. He had evidence to justify his fears. His readings indicated that he should be dead - and there were times when he would lie awake in bed thinking ’maybe I _am_ dead and I'm just dreaming all of this’ - but there he was. Standing within a town that was meant to be pulverised. Talking to a radio show host who should have been cooked to death in his own studio if the radioactive readings were anything to go by. Existing.

A glow cloud came. Some pterodactyls emerged from a rift in time and space and attacked a few of his colleagues. A pyramid came and gave philosophical, thought-inducing nuggets of wisdom. Slowly, Carlos grew to accept Night Vale and all of its idiosyncratic aspects. Acceptance shifted to affection, which then shifted to love.

It wasn't that Night Vale was harmless. The town was out to kill him and every other inhabitant within. It was run by a strange local government and often manifested itself as a crack pot conspiracy theorist’s wet dream. But the people are genuine, and kind, and accepting - they took to Carlos and his team as soon as they'd arrived, and looked out for them as if they'd been born and raised in Night Vale as well. The town was like a gigantic family that reminded him of his own large family.

Then, there was Cecil. Cecil, lovely and honest, and earnest and eager. Cecil the radio show host who raved about Carlos since he'd arrived. Cecil who was not ashamed of being with Carlos. Cecil who made him feel safe - safer than he'd ever felt anywhere.

As he ran from a strange rushing black goo across the vast expanse of the sand wastes with his heart pumping, his lab coat whipping around behind him, and a wide grin on his face, he thought about Night Vale. As he jumped into the car which immediately headed back to town, manned by nervous lab assistants who grabbed the equipment from him and looked him over to check for injuries, he thought of Cecil. As he calmed his breathing down (he was more fit than he had ever been now), he thought of his family. And of himself. His past self. The one who would not have been so willing to risk dying for science, not have been so willing to walk into an obvious Night Vale branded trouble, and let out a shaky laugh, earning him confused looks from his lab assistants.

He is a man of science and he has evidence and experience to back him up. It was not good to be overconfident but, if the figures were to be believed, then odds are they're going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I was on a long road-trip and Barenaked Ladies came on and made me think of Michael Sandereaux, then made me think of Night Vale. Good song.


End file.
